Wrong Brother
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Lysandra thinks her world shatters completely when Phineas tells her there's a complication in their relationship, but she isn't ready for the worst part.


_For the Hogwarts Forum_

 _Assignment 6: Lineage Studies, Black Family Marriages (write about one of the witches who married into the House of Black)_

* * *

Lysandra clutches Phineas' letter to her chest. It is so different from his usual letters. There is no poetic verse to declare his love for her, only a simple, urgent request to meet him in the garden at midnight.

The sweet fragrance of the flowers carry on the breeze, and she smiles. Though Phineas gave no details of their meeting, she can guess. Her beloved man has always been a hopeless romantic. He'll come to her with news that he's chosen her as his bride.

"Lysandra."

She turns at the familiar voice, her heart fluttering at the sight of him. Dark eyes, dark hair. His pale skin looks milky in the moonlight. Lysandra shivers with delight. They have been meeting in secret for two years now, and seeing him still excites her.

"My love," she says, hurrying closer, her bare feet scraping against the rough stone garden path.

She pauses a few inches from him when she notices the look in his eyes. He is still her Phineas, but she has never seen him look so troubled. A frown tugs at her lips as she takes his hand gently in hers. "Has something happened?"

Phineas inhales deeply before sighing. Lysandra doesn't know why the air around them suddenly feels so heavy, why the atmosphere has turned so tense. After several moments, he lifts her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "My father…" He heaves another sigh.

Lysandra moves closer, her frown deepening. Phineas loves his father. What could he have done to make Phineas look so haunted now?

"He found out about my beliefs where Muggles are concerned," her lover explains.

Lysandra pulls away, her eyes widening. She doesn't have to ask. Phineas has always been so different from the rest of the Blacks, but he's always taken care not to let his father learn the truth. While she still clings to her family's beliefs where Muggles and the like are concerned, she's learned to love him despite his eccentric leanings. "What's happened?" she asks quietly.

"I have been disowned," Phineas announces.

She swallows dryly, her mind racing. Without the Black family's wealth, he cannot provide a proper future for her. Loving him will tarnish her name.

She's surprised to realize she doesn't care. "We can run away together," she says. "It doesn't matter. I- I have enough gold that we can find a home, and-"

He silences her with a kiss, his fingers tangling in her honey blonde curls. He's kissed her so many times before, but this kiss is different. Lysandra can almost taste the goodbye on his tongue, and, when they pull away, tears dot her lashes.

"I have already disgraced my family," he says, brushing her tears away with his thumb. "I have to live with my shame. You still have the promise of the future you deserve, my love."

"Phineas-"

"Be happy, Lysandra," he says. "Please, do that for me, and know that I have always loved you and always will."

It isn't fair. Phineas is meant to be her one true love; no other man could ever take his place. How can she say goodbye and watch as her future walks away? How can she be happy when she knows she will never find anyone who can warm her heart the way he can?

Lysandra throws her slender arms around him once more, trying to ignore the aching finality of the moment. "I love you," she says.

His fingers graze over her cheek. Lysandra wonders if any man will ever touch her with the same gentleness again. Somehow, she doubts it. "Be happy," he says again before pulling away.

As Phineas hurries to the garden wall, Lysandra watches his retreating figure, fresh tears in her eyes. "How?" she whispers, but she's talking to air.

…

"Phineas Nigellus sent word this morning," her father announces at breakfast the following morning.

Lysandra tenses, her fork falling from her hand and clattering noisily against her plate. Her appetite seems to have vanished.

"His son Arcturus has asked for your hand."

Her stomach feels sour at the thought. Arcturus has never shown any interest in her. Has he merely coveted her secretly? Has he been waiting for brother to be out of the picture to make his move? It can't be a coincidence; the timing is too suspicious. She wonders if it had been Arcturus who had exposed Phineas' beliefs to their father in the first place.

"Father-"

He holds up a hand to silence her. Lysandra snaps her mouth shut, ever the obedient daughter. "The Blacks are a good family, Lysandra," he tells her. "Arcturus is the perfect suitor."

She wants to protest, but she knows better than to speak out of turn. Marriages are such a sacred thing to the Yaxley family. It isn't her place to be happy, only to ensure her family's blood remains pure.

She forces a smile, pretending her world isn't crashing around her. "Lysandra Black does sound lovely," she says, her voice quivering.

She's always imagined it would be her name one day. But in her girlish dreams, it has always been her beloved Phineas whose name she would take.

"Excellent! Good girl," her father praises, his dark eyes twinkling with delight. "I will send word immediately."

Lysandra excuses herself, muttering that she doesn't feel so well now. Her father laughs and dismisses it as nerves, insisting that her mother had been sick with joy upon her own engagement. She continues to smile until she leaves the dining hall.

Only now that she's alone does she dare let the tears fall. She will be Lysandra Black, as she's always dreamed. She will have the right name, but it will be the wrong brother.


End file.
